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You can’t treat me like you treat them Yes, I am the crème de la crème Yes I am from one to ten, ten You fronting in them streets, saying we just friends You can’t front like this ain’t way realer I know you hard, I know that you a killer I know you started off a dope dealer But let your guard down, your niggas know you feel her, feel her So what you want, baby?

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Do not educate your child to be rich. Educate him to be happy. So when he grows up, he’ll know the value of things, not the price.

(via disimba)
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Rihanna - What Now (Official)

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There will always be men who have fish hooks for fingers.
There will always be women with wet, sharp mouths.
It is okay to get caught up in them.

It is not okay to drown.

Don’t you ever let another human being tear you apart.
Remember that you have claws and teeth too.

Remember that you are better off

whole.

"For Brittanie", Trista Mateer (via tristamateer)
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  • 1 month ago
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Occasionally we let someone in, we open the folds of our insecurity and give access to the darkest parts of us. We hand over the key, and it’s terrifying. And sometimes they bump into a raw nerve, they say a callous insensitive remark, they ridicule a strange notion we have, they poke at our dreams just a bit. It hurts pretty bad and we push them out and fold up fast. We remind ourselves, “This is why I don’t let anyone in.” And we run.

It’s right here that most people apologize like crazy. They feel terrible. They were trying to figure out how to navigate the labyrinth of your wonderful story. It’s like holding a tiny flash light in a cave of a new world. They didn’t mean to provoke those old wounds. They didn’t mean to poke fun at your dreams. They considered it an honor that they held the key, even for a few frenzied moments.

Intimacy takes work, trust, wounds, hurts, sculpting in the dark: and that takes time. It takes more than a single chance. Of course we can close the doors, at any second, when we know it just won’t work. But there are many opportunities if we had trusted a little longer, reset the tempo, and spoke up louder: it would’ve been okay. Bridges would be built. New stories are made. You find your hand closing around theirs. They begin to traverse the folds of your heart with ease, and they learn to say those things which give life, which give freedom, which grow dreams. Intimacy is formed out of stumbling, but further down the path: there is so much light, so much laughter, so many steps to the horizon together.

J.S. (via jspark3000)
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